


Office Tendencies

by peachsicle



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: M/M, NSFW, Office Slut!Vernon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsicle/pseuds/peachsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s practically hanging off them, has been for weeks, and Ross’s blood is practically boiling at the sight. Who does he think he is, anyway, with a playful slap to Barry’s arm as he laughs incredulously at what was likely a very poor, cringe-worthy joke; it was all but infuriating to watch Vernon so casually and so swiftly woo the office with his wit and charm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Tendencies

**Author's Note:**

> I have jumped on the Office Slut!Vernon train, and I'm never going back. Edit: Oh yeah forgot to mention this is my first legit fic in a very long time, and is my first fic in the Game Grumps fandom, so I'm very sorry in advance if it's super rusty.

He’s practically hanging off them, has been for weeks, and Ross’s blood is practically boiling at the sight. Who does he think he is, anyway, with a playful slap to Barry’s arm as he laughs incredulously at what was likely a very poor, cringe-worthy joke; it was all but infuriating to watch Vernon so casually and so swiftly woo the office with his wit and charm. The first few weeks, the animator and Steam Train regular was able to ignore as attention was diverted from his sadistic antics towards that of Vernon’s resistless personality, didn’t even seem to mind it; in fact, it wasn’t until earlier that morning that the shift began to truly bother Ross. 

“He’s an absolute cock-slut,” Arin’s brash words had startled only the Australian, as Barry and Dan are quick to agree. They’re talking about Vern, of course, and Ross had been quick to tune them out, uncaring of their newest employee’s escapades. Then, though, he almost doesn’t want to. “rode me like a fucking porn star.” He wasn’t sure if it was purposeful, but Ross had hyperaware, suddenly, of the glances given to him from the other three. 

Since the conversation, he’d been noticing the small things through the day; the way Vern’s fingers seemed brush against Barry’s thigh; the extra, unneeded touches to Arin’s bare arms; the way he leaned in to Dan’s words, as though he really cared; every single bit of it set flame to Ross’s veins. He liked Vernon enough, he was a good guy with good ideas, but something about the way he had so quickly come in and swept the office of its feet, the way he so quickly overshadowed the senior grump, it wasn’t okay. 

Someone had to say something.  
.:.  


He’s able to let it go for a few weeks, move on with his daily life without the need to pay mind to the goings on of one Vernon Shaw, and the office seemed to have calmed down with their overwhelming obsession with the shiny new grump; if he tried, Ross could almost pretend the conversation he’d bore witness to between Dan, Arin, and Barry hadn’t happened at all. Still, it’s hard not to notice the distinct dry spell he’d had since Vernon showed up. Even Brian, his guaranteed fuck buddy, had been unusually absent.

The office is quiet, devoid of anyone but Ross himself, with the only noise coming from the quiet clicks of his mouse as he peruses the internet idly. It’s not like him to stay late, but with Holly out of town, he finds himself unwilling to return to his house alone, choosing, instead, to work until the early hours of the morning in order to give himself reason to remain. Not that he’s actually working, though; rather, he’s simply wasting time, looking up memes, and pretending to be okay with everyone’s sudden lack of interest.

He doesn’t realize it for a while, though, that he’s not the only grump in the office at 1:48 in the morning; even with the walls so thin, it takes a solid five minutes before the familiar sound of moaning hits him. Body suddenly wired with energy, Ross straightens, listening for a few moments to ensure he wasn’t simply losing his mind. It’s quiet, just barely loud enough to hear from his room in the main part of the office, but it’s definitive. And it’s higher pitched than he would have thought.

He knows, of course, it’s Vernon, who else could it be, really? What he doesn’t know is who else was with him. Everyone had gone home, he was certain, as he recalls seeing Barry leave with Dan, and Arin, Suzy, and Jack agreeing to meet for dinner at 8. Ross might have been determined to ignore it, drown it out somehow, if his utter nosiness hadn’t gotten the better of him. He moves swiftly around the office, avoiding the creaky parts of the floor as best he can to ensure he’s not heard by Vernon or his unknown lover, though with the moans growing ever louder the closer Ross gets, he begins to wonder if the pair would hear him at all.

The Australian is less prepared than he had hoped to be when he finally makes it to the room the two claimed for the night, his stomach falling when he spots the greying grump pounding into a bent Vernon, a string of moans and dirty talk falling from both of their lips in their heat. 

“Daddy,” the younger grump gasps suddenly, gripping onto the table he was leaned over with one hand, the other clutched at Brian’s hip desperately. The older grump’s fingers are buried into the luscious dark hair of Vernon, gripping hard as he thrusts his cock harshly, only stirred by that of his younger toy’s words. Ross doesn’t know how long the two had been there, doing this, but from the several splashes of white across Vernon’s back, he has to guess it had been far longer than when he first noticed. 

It’s almost as much humiliating as it is infuriating the longer he stands there, watching as Brian and Vernon lose themselves in each other. He hates the way Vernon moans out Brian’s name, hates the way Brian calls him his “good boy”, and he hates the comments of how tight the younger grump is, how much of a good fuck he is. But what Ross hates the most, more than anything else about what he’s watching, is how fucking hard he is. 

His cock aches, and he doesn’t want to touch it, to soothe; it’s almost like admitting defeat because fuck Vernon really does look hot as he’s being fucked senseless. Still, Ross gently palms at himself, a mix of shame, anger, and hurt washing over him as he bites his lip to keep quiet. He hates this whole situation as he ruts into his hand, all the while willing things to return to the way they had been before the co-creator of HPG had joined. But it’s only as he braces himself against the doorframe, fingers slipping into his pants as he releases his throbbing cock, that the image playing in his head isn’t one where he’s in Vernon’s place, fucked senseless by Brian and the others, but rather, in the place of the older grump himself, with Vernon pinned helplessly as Ross fucks him. And it’s to this image, with Vernon’s succulently sweet voice crying out in his own orgasm, that the Australian comes, shame and self-hatred washing over him immediately.

.:.  


For two weeks, Ross barely acknowledges either Brian or Vernon; he barely acknowledges anyone, really, out of his own shame for his petty jealously followed by immediate fantasies of fucking his new coworker with the same raw energy with which he had dominated several times over. No one seems to pay it any mind, really, and the Australian doesn’t make a big deal out of it when conversations turn from him in place of focusing on Vernon. Instead, he attempts to act as though he weren’t plagued by constant reminders of how he was easily replaceable, a quick fuck meant to last only until a new shiny toy comes along. 

He maintains the façade fairly well in the weeks following Brian and Vernon’s affair, even with the sidelong glares towards the two aforementioned when they weren’t looking immediately his way, but it’s on the cusp of the third week afterwards, when Ross watches as the pepper-inducing critic is struck on his ass by none other than Brian, that his tempers flare. He stands, abruptly, startling the two as well as Barry, and storms out, an odd mix of jealousy towards both Vernon and Brian brewing in the pit of his stomach. He manages to hide himself in an unoccupied room in the office before he realizes the hot sting in his eyes, and the warm dampness on his face. It’s almost pathetic, he feels, actually being driven to tears over something so goddamn petty, and swears violently for several seconds while he paces the room, willing himself to calm down. 

“Ross?” He stops, jealousy and rage immediately turning to shame as he notices Vernon standing there, a look of concern on his features. He doesn’t exactly mean for it to happen, but he can’t help but glare, eyes narrowed at the new grump; he doesn’t even bother to wipe at his face to hide the overly obvious tears. He can see the question on the other’s face, and before he’s given another chance to speak, Ross pipes up. 

“I hate you,” he almost sounds like a child who’s suddenly be graced with a younger sibling and is being forced to share their parents’ affection and attention, and Vernon tries not to look overly hurt as he fully enters the room, the door closing behind him. He doesn’t say anything, though, instead letting Ross carry on. “You just fucking stroll in here like you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread, and everyone’s so damn enamored with you. You’re just their fuck buddy, you know, that’s all you mean to them.” Whether that’s true or not, Ross isn’t actually certain, but he’s trying to hurt the other, and it’s infuriating when Vernon just looks at him with pity.

“It isn’t fair; like you’re so damn irresistible that they don’t even seem to bother with me anymore? What the hell is so great about you anyway?” He’s advanced on Vernon now, cornered him as he yells and defaces him, and it’s irritating when the other doesn’t respond, instead just watches him silently as he goes on his tangent. After several minutes, Ross is all but panting, breathless from his own rage as he stares the other down. Why? Why did everyone like him so much? What made him so fucking special?!

“Ro—“ The Australian cuts him off, forcing their lips together suddenly and angrily; he doesn’t want to hear him, doesn’t want to know what the other has to say; he doesn’t want to talk it out, he just wants to be angry, and he just wants relief. 

He doesn’t expect it – though he likely should have – when Vernon starts kissing him back, their bodies suddenly flush together as he wraps his arms around Ross’s neck to pull him in close. Vernon’s lips are softer than he would have thought, and his mouth is sweet like honey; if he weren’t so upset, he might’ve let himself enjoy it as his tongue probes the corners of Vernon’s mouth almost desperately. Before long, though, he finds himself exploring other parts of his office-slut rival, tongue lapping at the skin of his neck while his hands roam his lanky body, eventually coming to a stop at his waist. 

To both of their seeming disappointment, Ross steps back, the two of them breathless as they stare at one another; it isn’t Vernon’s fault, he knows that, but there’s no one else to blame and so even though he knows he shouldn’t, he takes it out on Vernon.

.:.  


The newer grump chokes on a whine, his face pressed against the hard wall as Ross’s fingers violate him. If not for the Australian’s arm pressed against his shoulder blades, preventing Vernon from moving, he would have been grinding down against them like the desperate slut he was. He took two fingers almost too easily, begging for more within a few short lived moments as Ross curls his digits. When he removes his fingers, the other whines needingly, and the senior grump hesitates. He really was all types of awful, behaving like such a child and despising the others for their insistent conversations about Vernon, only to be standing there, his cock pressed against Vernon’s plump ass, ready to fuck him. His hands rest against the other’s hips, nails pressing deep marks into the flesh as he thrust in; both of them gasp, Ross pulling Vernon’s waist back as he slumps against the wall. Compared to Brian and even Barry, the Australian isn’t much. He’s significantly smaller, and it only proves to infuriate him more the longer he waits, knowing full well that Vernon had already (and easily) adjusted to him. 

“I hate you,” he says softly, teeth grit as he thrusts deep into the other, dragging his fingernails along the paled skin, the other groaning softly in his chest. With each drawn-out thrust, he repeats it, a little louder than the last, with more emphasis on his thrust, almost attempting to drive home how much he really fucking hates this whole thing. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” And yet, he loves it, too. He loves the feeling of Vernon around his cock, the way he squeezes just right, the way he moans Ross’s name like the whore he is, and for hours they fuck, until the two have all but collapsed to the floor, Ross’s hands pinning Vernon’s shoulders as his cock pumps in and out of him. 

He’s lost his steam, Vernon’s back covered in scratches and the Australian’s come, and it feels like eternity that the two stay like that, with the newer grump still face-first on the floor, and the senior grump pinning him that way, panting and silent. Eventually, Ross slowly eases up, releasing his grip on Vernon as he sits back on his knees. Ross has anything to say, even when Vernon eventually gets up and cleans himself off, even as he fixes his clothing, and even as he exits the room, leaving the other to sit in his silence and shame.  
He hates him.


End file.
